


Lips Like Sugar

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: A little angst, Fluff, M/M, Mild Language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-03
Updated: 2013-04-03
Packaged: 2017-12-07 08:15:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/746324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castiel isn't really sure when his obsession with Dean's mouth started.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lips Like Sugar

Castiel isn't really sure when his obsession with Dean's mouth started. He isn't quite positive when he started noticing every small movement of the hunter's lips when he spoke; the way they'd curl at the edges sometimes, when Castiel says something that's just right. Or maybe it's when Castiel says something wrong. The point is, Dean smiles when Castiel talks. And Castiel isn't really sure why.

So he starts paying closer attention to Dean's mouth. He takes in every twitch, every sneer, every time Dean's tongue peeks out between those lips to wet them. Castiel takes careful inventory of the smiles, filing them away into two distinct categories of “mine” and “not mine”. The truth is, Castiel likes Dean's smile, and he likes even more to be the cause of it.

He likes the way Dean's eyes crinkle sometimes, if the smile gets just big and wide enough. He really likes the way Dean laughs, but he doesn't like the fact that Dean doesn't laugh much. He wants Dean to laugh more. So, at first, he tries to laugh himself, hoping it will spark the same reaction in Dean. But the laughter comes out forced, almost leaning toward creepy, and Dean just furrows his brows, giving him one of those _dude, are you okay?_ looks. Castiel decides he doesn't like that look.

He studies, and studies _hard_. He watches movies and television shows categorized under “comedy” and learns what he can. He quotes everything from _Monty Python and the Holy Grail_ to _Airplane!_ , and still, all he manages to get is that same look. He thinks, after he's tried everything he can think of, that maybe Dean just can't laugh anymore. Or that maybe Dean just doesn't like him. He tries not to dwell too much on the latter.

He has somewhat of a breakdown one night when they're shacked up in a dingy motel room in the middle of who-knows-where. Dean is seated in front of his laptop, seeming to have ditched his usual pornography for a recent film entitled _The Hangover_. Castiel isn't really sure why one would enjoy a movie with a title alluding to such an unpleasant experience, but there Dean is, nearly doubled over in his seat with laughter, and that's when Castiel cracks.

“Dean?” Castiel asks from where he's seated on the edge of the bed closest to the elder Winchester, who seems to be so engulfed in the movie that he doesn't notice the angel beside him. Castiel's brows furrow, and he barks out, “Dean!”

Dean's head snaps in his direction as he nearly jumps out of the seat, hands flying up to yank the earbuds from his ears. “Jesus Christ, Cas, _what_?”

“Do you like me?”

Dean's expression softens, all blood suddenly draining from his face, eyes widening slightly. His mouth opens and closes, mind searching for a proper answer. Castiel studies the hunter, eyes narrowed into small, thoughtful slits.

“Do I – do I _like_ you?” Dean manages, causing Castiel to huff in annoyance.

“Yes, Dean. It's a fairly simply question,” the angel replies. He stands up, taking the seat across from Dean at the small table against the wall. His eyes all but bore into Dean's skull.

Castiel notices it then; the twitch of Dean's lips into that grin he's been seeking out for so long. “It's not simple at _all_ , Cas. Nothing ever is.”

It's with that answer that Castiel knows Dean's smile isn't genuine. It's fake, almost mocking, and it frustrates Castiel to the point where he thinks he might actually lose his mind. This isn't fair. All he wants is to know whether or not Dean wants him around.

“You're making it seem more complicated than it is,” Castiel shoots back, and just like that, the smile on Dean's face is nowhere to be found.

Dean lets his eyes narrow; gives Castiel's expression some thought before shaking his head and twirling the cord for his earbuds around his finger. “Man, you really are clueless, aren't you.”

With a small, yet annoyed sigh, Castiel closes Dean's laptop, leaning forward onto his elbows and fixing his eyes on Dean's. “I want to know what I can do to make you laugh more often.”

Dean seems to be taken aback by this, his head rearing backward with Castiel's statement, brows knitting together in confusion. “Why do you want me to laugh? Wait – I _do_ laugh. Where is this even coming from?”

“Dean, you – ”

“No, Cas, don't even _pretend_ like you know what goes on in my head. Because it's pretty clear to me right now that you don't know a damn thing,” Dean speaks, voice firm and only wavering enough for Castiel to pick up on.

Castiel relies on what he's been doing for the past few weeks, moving his attention to Dean's mouth. His lips are pressed into a hard line, verging on a frown. Castiel scans Dean's other features and it's obvious that Dean isn't happy, which, in turn, makes Castiel unhappy.

After a moment, Castiel eases back into the conversation. “I just want your happiness, Dean, and I want to be the cause of it.”

Dean's eyes flicker toward the angel beside him, the corner of his mouth twitching (which Castiel pretends not to notice). The hunter squints as he thinks, trying to decipher any bullshit that Castiel might be throwing his way. “Is this what all that _Monty Python_ shit was about?”

At that, Castiel releases a small chuckle of his own, genuine and soft. “Yes. I'm afraid so.”

Dean laughs softly, shoulders shaking slightly with it as he shakes his head. He remains silent for a moment, his mind sorting through proper responses. “You know, if you wanted to make me laugh, all you had to do was be yourself.”

Castiel isn't really prepared for the speeding of his heart or the twisting of his stomach. He isn't prepared for the way his face heats up just the tiniest bit, and he _definitely_ isn't prepared for the smile that Dean gives him. It's warm and small, lower lip tucked back between his teeth, and Castiel has to do everything in his power to keep from touching. He isn't even sure what he wants to touch; just knows that his hands are fighting against a gravitational pull forward.

It isn't until Dean is standing up, crossing the small space between them that Castiel's mind starts functioning again. It's when Dean's hands are cupping his face, tender and careful and _loving_ , that his hands give in and twist into the thin material of Dean's shirt, pulling the hunter down, _closer_. And it's just when Dean's mouth is pressed against his, timid but promising, that Castiel knows he'll be obsessed with that mouth for the unforseeable future.


End file.
